


Whalesong

by tinx_r



Category: Riptide - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Shifter, werewhale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/pseuds/tinx_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick knows Cody loves the sea, so how come he acts like he's terrified of it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whalesong

**Author's Note:**

> For Jekesta

In Vietnam, Cody was terrified of the water. Nick didn't blame him--the water over there was stinking brackish swamp, more often than not brown with blood or rainbow-slick with oil from mangled US Army vehicles. Infested with leeches, snakes and every other goddamn beast that crawled and slithered.

Made Nick's skin crawl to think of it. But he, like the others, marched doggedly on through, cigarette at the ready to burn off the bloodsuckers on the other side.

The first time Nick saw Cody standing at the edge of the swamp, a look of pure distilled terror on his face, Nick stopped right in his tracks and waded back across twelve or more yards of putrid liquid to his side. That day, he didn't know more about Cody than about anyone in the unit; Cody was just another soldier.

But that fear in his face, the jeers starting around him--Nick wouldn't have left the puniest bookworm at Lincoln High to face that alone, let alone a fellow soldier.

"You okay, man?"

Cody's eyes were huge and blank with horror. Nick had never forgotten that look. He'd put his hand on Cody's arm, given him a shake. "C'mon, guy. We got it to do, you know?"

Cody'd snapped out of his funk, stared at Nick, looking sick. "I -- I can't."

Nick measured him with his eyes. Cody was taller, but Nick put him at ten, maybe twenty pounds lighter. If he had to, he could carry him. Easy.

"Sure you can," he said, crisp and authoritative. Then he continued in a lower voice. "We can't stay out here, Allen. We can't go back. Across this thing's the only way."

Cody's eyes registered the truth of Nick's words but something else -- something fearful.

Nick held out a hand. "Hang on to me," he suggested, quieter. The rest of the unit were several yards ahead, their brief interest in the nervous soldier forgotten in the face of their own survival. "Let me lead. It'll be okay, man. I promise."

Cody took Nick's hand, and Nick felt a tremor go right through the guy; something so deep it rocked his foundations, so heavy it tore at the edges of Nick's soul. Nick felt a fraction of Cody's terror seep inside.

He welcomed it gladly and stared into the blond soldier's eyes. "C'mon, man," he said hoarsely. "Last one gets a leech is a rotten egg."

Cody didn't smile but he stepped forward, into the water. He sank to thigh-deep, closing his eyes and standing frozen for a moment. Then Nick tugged his hand.

Cody gasped as though his heart had started beating again. Maybe it had. And as Nick plowed on through the swamp, Cody followed, gripping tight to Nick's hand. Stepping where Nick walked.

What Nick could never figure was why a guy who hated water as much as Cody did wanted to live on a boat. They all shot the breeze whenever time, brass and VC allowed; talkin' up shit as fast as they could make it up.

It was one thing that got a man through.

Nick's thing was fast cars. The Mustang his dad could never afford, the huge Dodge Charger his shop teacher had let the class work on time to time. The big Buick Riviera he'd learned to drive in, courtesy old Ron, the owner of the garage on the corner.

He was kinda leery of talkin' about getting back, talking about After. After scared him nearly more than the Now of war. But Cody had no such reservations. While Nick talked about high school and his neighborhood, Cody had nothing to say about the past.

The future was another matter. A boat, big enough to live on. A Pacific beach, Southern California. Fishing, surfing. Cody couldn't talk about it enough, mapped out what Nick figured to be the whole west coast, islands and shipping lanes, reefs. Safe anchorages, deep water.

He made it sound beautiful, but Nick had no idea if Cody's words were proof enough to get them through. Nick was too afraid to believe them, even though he wanted them to be true with everything he had. If anyone deserved a happy ever after, it was Cody.

\---

It was a long time before Cody's dream became reality. Home in the US, Cody disappeared from Nick's orbit; leaving Nick a moonless planet, thrown out of synch with his world.

But it didn't work, it couldn't; Nick realized, after, that he should have known, shouldn't have wasted all his energy making himself hope Cody was happy. Whatever they'd been back before they'd met, since partnering up they were two halves of the same whole. Separate, they were rudderless, hopeless. Nick knew it at last when Cody staggered back into his life, gaze as blank and hopeless, as filled with horror, as when he was poised on the edge of that swamp, so long ago now.

Nick would have taken Cody to the beach, to a boat--would have taken him anywhere, given him anything--but it turned out Cody didn't want to go. When Nick drove them to the ocean, Cody turned green and refused to leave the car.

So in the end, Nick signed them on as MP's, pulling all the strings he had to get them assigned to Fort Polk, Louisiana. Out of sight of the water, but close enough if Cody changed his mind.

Cody agreed and signed, and talked about the future--Nick's partner, just like he'd always been--and never mentioned the ocean, or the boat, once.

Nick said nothing, and carefully planned his flightpaths over land.

He'd noticed that one weekend a month, Cody had taken to disappearing. He'd worried at first--unexplained absence sent up missing-in-action flags in his brain--but Cody came back Sunday nights, a careful secret smile on his face.

If Nick hadn't've known better, he'd have thought Cody had a girlfriend, that he was spending those missing weekends getting laid and good. But by that time, the only person laying Cody was Nick. Nick was damn sure of that.

And when Cody returned, he was primed and ready. More relaxed than any other time, hungry for Nick, wanting nothing more than Nick covering him with his body, filling him up. When Nick quizzed him, Cody got both defensive and frightened, so Nick gave up asking; just pinned him to the bed and screwed him until words were irrelevant, and whatever Cody had been in the missing hours, wherever he'd seen, whoever had touched him was wiped away.

Cody was Nick's and Nick's alone; had always been Nick's. Nick knew it, and was pretty sure Cody knew it too, even though they hadn't talked about it. They would, one day; Nick knew that too, just like he knew that one day he'd find out the mystery of Cody's absences, and that one day the boat would be back on the agenda.

That was just how he and Cody were.

"Take me with you Saturday." Nick had figured out the timing, and he knew Cody would be gone the following weekend. He'd hatched a surefire plan.

"Huh?" Cody's voice sounded thick, as though rational thought was a problem. It almost certainly was; Cody was on his back on the bed, stripped naked, knees drawn up to his chest. Two of Nick's fingers were seated deep in his well-lubed ass, and Cody's swollen cock was leaking pre-cum across his belly.

Nick scissored his fingers. "Take me with you. Wanna know where you go. Wanna be with you."

Cody groaned, hips gyrating in slow urgency. "Can't," he said faintly. "Spoil everything. Nick!"

Nick shifted slightly, teasing Cody's pleasure spot. Cody's ass pulled satisfyingly at his fingers. He loved working Cody this way, loved watching him as his usual defenses came down, stripped away. Opening Cody by increments, giving him time to feel himself vulnerable and ready. To render him completely undone, reduced to his need for Nick, his urgent hunger to be fucked.

Cody had struggled with his want to begin with, fought it, sometimes even fought Nick. But Nick was nothing if not patient, as proved by the length of time he'd waited to force the issue on Cody's secret destination.

It was roughly twice as long as he'd waited to get Cody into bed.

This, however, was evidently the harder job. Cody's resistance was proving greater than Nick had expected. Cody wasn't fighting him exactly--he was still on the bed, hands behind his knees, pulling his legs high and open. But he wasn't giving in, either; riding Nick's fingers past his endurance, sweat beaded all over his body, breathing reduced to rough, uneven gasps.

In the end it was Nick gave in, eased his fingers out of Cody's throbbing passage, placed his mouth over the hot, swollen entrance. Lapped and teased, taking Cody beyond the peak of arousal without touching Cody's cock, then just when Cody would have lost control, drawing back.

Cody was beautiful, debauched on the bed, hair tangled and messy, soaked with sweat. Gripping his legs so hard his fingers left white marks, splaying himself open for Nick. Ready to beg, ready to give Nick everything.

"Take me with you," Nick growled, soft in Cody' ear.

Cody squeezed his eyes shut, face contorted with this unbearable pleasure. "No."

And Nick, because in the end, he could deny Cody nothing, pressed his own aching cock to Cody's slick, ready hole. Entering Cody was exquisite torture--Cody was so close to the edge, so tight, his muscles latching on to Nick with a vicelike grip.

Nick shuddered and groaned, sweat pouring down his face, his neck--at moments like this, he felt it, how Cody owned him, body and soul. He wanted to come; he wanted this sweet moment on the edge to last forever. To hear Cody's broken gasps and soft encouragements, feel the pulse of Cody's body deep inside himself.

At last he was seated deep between Cody's buttocks, his own groin pressed to the creamy tight cheeks. Every time Cody breathed, the thrill dragged Nick closer to the edge. He held himself on an impossibly tight rein, moving infinitesimally, incredibly aware of the head of his cock nudging Cody's prostate with every move.

Cody's ass milked him and Nick set his teeth, stroking short and hard. The feeling was too great, too high--it was like riding a wave he knew would swamp him, an updraft in a thunderstorm. Pure adrenaline, pure magic. Out of this world.

Cody screamed and came; Nick followed suit, his body imploding on itself as his come filled Cody's ass. He collapsed, broken, boneless, wrapping himself around Cody, his one touchstone in the bottomless pit of sensation.

Nick wasn't willing to describe his plan as a failure, because there was nothing about a mind-blowing fuck with the guy he loved more than the whole world that could be called a fail. But he had to admit it hadn't been an unqualified success.

The following Saturday, Cody still disappeared--taking Nick unawares, slipping away before he was awake. Stayed gone til Sunday evening, wandered back in around six, wearing that smile that set Nick's guts at tying themselves in knots.

Nick had a surefire cure for that. Cody was looking in the fridge, smacking his lips over the fresh prawn cutlets Nick was planning for supper, so Nick walked right up behind him, spun him around, and proceeded to kiss the smile right off Cody's face.

By the time Nick was done, Cody's blue eyes were soft and hazy, his expression dazed, and he was leaning against Nick.

Turned out, Nick had a surefire cure for that, too.

Over midnight prawns, with Cody half-lying across his lap, Nick went back to the subject. He would have described himself as a patient man, but once he got ahold of a topic, he worried it like a starving dog with a two-day-old bone.

"If you wont let me come, and you can't tell me what's going on, I'm gonna go crazy here, big guy. Thinkin' about you, out there alone--what if something happened to you, Cody? What if something went wrong? I wouldn't even know you were hurt--where you were--anything. I couldn't come after you."

Nick had meant his words to be casual, but by the end he was as close to shouting as he ever got with Cody. The idea of his partner in trouble, with himself helpless, was enough to make him puke.

Cody calmly disposed of a prawn, wiped his fingers on his napkin then reached up and kissed Nick lightly. "You couldn't come after me."

"What do you mean?" Nick's eyes burned. "Where d'you go? Outer space?"

Cody looked down, then took another prawn. "May as well be. Listen, Nick, leave it, okay? I promise you I'm not with anyone else."

Nick touched Cody's cheek lightly. That much he knew without being told. Cody's body conveyed the truth of that every night, every morning. "I don't think I can. You gotta tell me, baby."

"You wouldn't believe me if I did."

Nick left it, then, in the end; neither gone nor forgotten, just laid aside until he found another approach. He hoped he found it soon; not only did the weekends bother him, the army bothered him more and he knew Cody felt the same.

It was time for them both to get out, but Nick was loath to cast them both adrift upon the world with Cody's secret, and Cody's unexplained abhorrence of the ocean, hanging over them.

His abhorrence was put to the test one afternoon, during a shipboard meeting of Army and Marine personnel. Nick and Cody were escorting a colonel, and Nick spent the afternoon glaring at his opposite NCIS number with one eye, and keeping the other firmly on Cody.

Cody was nearly green, his face as blank and terrorized as it had been so many years ago in Vietnam. He moved through the day mechanically, and Nick would have been both frightened and sympathetic if he hadn't had the idea that whatever he was seeing hid the secret of Cody's disappearances.

"The water," he said quietly, almost frogmarching Cody out of the anteroom and up on deck. "It's something about the water. You love the ocean, I know you do--but you're terrified to go near it. What's wrong? You seasick?"

Cody looked over the rail at the seagreen ocean, and turned nearly the same color himself. He turned as though to escape, but Nick caught his arms and held him fast.

"Don't do this, Nick. Don't do this." Cody's voice broke. "Let's just go inside and forget all this. I was thinking, you know, maybe we could get a transfer someplace."

"Like hell."

Cody forced a short laugh. "Hell might be kinda hot. I was thinking maybe Nebraska."

"Because of seasickness? C'mon, Cody, man. You gotta tell me what's going on here."

Cody wrenched himself out of Nick's grip. "No, Nick. That's where you're wrong. You gotta stop asking me. You gotta leave this thing alone."

"Well, I won't." Nick lunged for Cody.

Leaping out of the way, Cody staggered against the rail, then started to run. As he took his first step, his military boots--perfect in mud, useless on metal decks--slid in the seaspray. Cody pinwheeled his arms, making a mad grab for the rail. Nick lunged to save him, but Cody was too far away.

With a strangled yell, Cody somersaulted over the side.

Nick tore his uniform jacket off, one hand on the rail, eyes roving for a life preserver. He saw one down the deck a ways then leaned out. Cody had gone straight under, and he stared anxiously, waiting for him to surface.

A minute went by, then two. Nick's guts started to churn. He kicked off his boots, gripping the life preserver. "Cody, where the hell are you?"

The surface of the water beside the ship heaved and bubbled. Nick stared in horror as an enormous black and white head broke the surface, followed by a sleek body. The orca jumped, passing within feet of Nick, close enough for him to hear its teeth snap.

"Cody!" Throwing rational thought to the winds, Nick flung himself over the rail, hitting the water a second after the huge beast. He rolled and tossed in the surge of its passing, hardly able to catch a breath.

There was shouting from the ship as soldiers and marines ran to the rails to stare for another sighting of the killer whale. Nick didn't spare them a glance, scanning the sea with his eyes for any sign of his partner. There was nothing. Filling his lungs as best he might, he dived, stroking down through the murky depths, searching for the glint of gold hair.

Cody was okay; Nick just had to find him. Believing anything else was inconceivable.

When his aching lungs would not stand another moment he surfaced, sucking in more air. Dimly he noticed the ship was further away, but that was hardly important. Nick went down again, trying for more depth, desperation and lack of oxygen making him light-headed.

There was no sign of Cody.

The surface meant nothing to Nick but a sip of oxygen and lungs filled past capacity. Each moment away from the undersea tore him that much further from Cody, made the horrifying reality of Cody's fall and the killer whale into a grim tragedy. Nick's brain touched the edges of the thought even while his heart wouldn't think it, and Nick redoubled his efforts.

His strength was deserting him, but he wouldn't give up. He had to find Cody.

The dive and the sea and the frigate blurred together before his salt-burned eyes. His body was weightless, floating and swooping like a swallow in the water. Something about that metaphor struck him as odd, but he was so tired, too tired to care. If only he had Cody, he could sleep.

Nick was on the edge, drifting past comprehension, when something struck him a huge blow in the solar plexus. Suddenly the weightlessness was gone, replaced by the heavy, fatal drag of fathoms of water. Nick's lungs burned as he tried to breathe and he started to cough, choking up seawater as he struggled to stay afloat.

He was drowning. He fought to tread water, to breathe, struggling for a sight of the ship. But he couldn't see it for the waves, and then the enormity of the situation struck him. Cody had gone into the sea. And now Cody was really gone.

There was another mighty jolt and the sea around him heaved, then Nick realized he could touch bottom. He staggered forward then went to his knees, somehow taking in a coarse sandy beach. He dragged himself forward until his upper body was out of the water then dropped to his side, supporting himself on an arm that shook.

Out in the water bobbed a huge black and white shape. Nick stared at it angrily. "If you ate Cody, I'll kill you. Where is he? Answer me, whale. Where is he?"

The orca flicked its tail then dived. Nick gritted his teeth, then stared as a fin sliced through the water toward him. He barely had time to wonder if the beast planned to attack him when it beached beside him, huge intelligent eye staring into his own.

Nick drew back a little instinctively. "You didn't answer," he said. "Where's Cody?"

"I'm right here, big guy."

Nick blinked, then blinked again. Where a moment ago he'd seen a giant black and white whale, his partner sat, naked, knees drawn up. "Cody? C-C-C-Cody?"

"Sure, Nick, it's me." Cody shuffled a few feet sideways until he was right beside Nick. "Are you okay? I thought you were gonna drown yourself out there for a few minutes."

"You thought--I thought--" Nick stopped. He was more than confused, but the important part of all this was Cody, alive, beside him. "You drowned. The whale ate you. Cody--oh, God, Cody!"

Cody caught Nick in his arms, holding him close. "C'mon, buddy. C'mon. Let's get dry and warm, huh?"

Back from the beach, Nick discovered they were on a tiny island. He could see the coast, but he could see no sign of the Navy ship they'd fallen from. The ship had been lying at anchor--Nick had no idea about the currents in this area, but he didn't think they could have been carried out of sight.

"Cody, where's the boat?"

"Four or five miles that way," Cody said casually, pointing west. "I didn't want to take us in to the mainland--too many people--so this was the only place I could think of."

"Four or five miles." Nick stared.

Cody, golden hair wet and ragged against his neck, unhooked the survival kit from Nick's belt and started making a fire. Nick watched him, shivering, partly from the clammy touch of his wet clothes; mostly from the incomprehensibility of what had just happened.

Once Cody had the dry seagrass and driftwood burning, he came back to Nick and helped him out of his wet clothes. "C'mon," he said, drawing him close to the small flames. He sat behind Nick, his chest warm against Nick's back, encircling Nick with his body.

Nick relaxed into him, letting go for once. It was rare for Cody to be the protector, but here, now, Nick was too frightened, too confused to take in anything but the fact of Cody's presence.

"I don't get it," Nick said at last. He was warm now, partly thanks to the fire but mostly thanks to Cody. He could look, barely, at the moment when Cody had gone over the side, comforted by the solid reality of Cody's presence. "What happened? How'd we get five miles from the boat? And--and where's the killer whale?"

Cody's arms tightened around Nick's chest, and he kissed the back of Nick's neck. "How about I tell you you were dreaming? You're gonna wake up soon back home, none of this happened?"

Nick closed his eyes. The thought was comforting, but he knew it wasn't true. Nightmares were everyday occurrences for both of them; dreaming of losing Cody happened, but not like this. "I want you to tell me the truth. I've been asking you forever, guy. Spill it." He twisted around to look at Cody.

Cody was looking back at him seriously. "You know the answer, Nick. You saw it."

Nick touched Cody's cheek, staring into his lover's blue eyes. Cody was frightened, he realized suddenly, the confidence nothing but bravado. Cody was frightened of what Nick was going to say, or do, when faced with the truth.

And what was the truth? Nick brushed a wet gold curl back from Cody's forehead. He'd been in the water with a killer whale, searching for Cody. He'd found the island--

Nick remembered the blow that had knocked him out of the water, the nudge that had pushed him onto the island's sandy beach. "The whale brought us here," he said slowly.

"Orca are known for their intelligence," Cody said. His voice trembled.

Nick closed his eyes again. "The whale brought _me_ here." He thought of the killer whale beaching beside him. "You were the whale. _You were the whale._ "

He felt the vibration go through Cody, felt him tight and tense, poised as though for flight. Nick opened his eyes, staring into Cody's terror, into the half-formed plea in his face. "You idiot. Why didn't you just _tell_ me?"

*

Explaining to the military how two MPs disappeared from a ship at anchor one afternoon and reappeared on base the following morning without benefit of chopper, boat or orders was never going to be easy. Especially when the truth was absolutely not an option.

But Nick knew enough to trade on their war records, and bartered them out of court-martial and into a sealed-envelope discharge on "medical grounds". That usually meant PTSD, but Nick figured it was a fair trade for a giant orca.

Cody packed cheerfully and didn't ask where they were going, although when they got into the Vette, Nick found a map of Omaha on the driver's seat. He slipped it into the glovebox without a word.

A lot of people might have struggled with the werewhale concept, Nick figured. Hell, he would have himself, if someone that wasn't Cody had tried to sell him on the idea. But Cody was Cody, golden and beautiful, more like a seal, when Nick thought about it, than his true alter-ego.

And if Cody was part killer-whale, Nick was still in love with him. Even more, maybe, now he knew the answer to Cody's irrational terror of water--salt water, Nick realized now. Not regular water.

Nick hadn't had a chance to study the phenomenon--Cody was shy of it, and Fort Polk didn't offer a lot of opportunity for a guy to turn into a whale unobserved--but he thought he'd figured it out. When salt-water touched Cody, he turned into a killer whale. Except, maybe, when he was touching Nick, Nick thought, remembering the brackish swamps in Vietnam. Or maybe they just hadn't been salt enough.

Either way, Nick figured the Pacific would be salt enough.

The wide Pacific, the boat Cody had always wanted, and the kind of jobs where no-one noticed if you needed an extra day off now and then. Tourist guides, maybe, or some kind of casual work. It was pretty clear from Cody's disappearances that the ocean called him at least once a month; he'd been making do with weekends but Nick didn't have to ask him to know it wasn't enough.

* * *

"Hey, Nick, where's Cody? I've got that data he wanted about tides and weather."

"Uh--" Nick turned from his position in the bow, looking rather wildly at their third partner. "He's around someplace. Do you need him right now?"

"No." Murray looked quizzical. "What d'you mean 'someplace', Nick? It's a fifty-four foot boat, and he's not in my cabin, the galley, the salon or on deck. Logically, that leaves the wheelhouse, the head, your cabin, or looking at the engines."

Nick clenched his teeth. There were times Murray's literal mind really bugged him. "Then I guess he's in one of those places, huh? You want me to look at the data for you?"

"No, Cody had me run three different parameters--it wont make any sense without me explaining it to him. Still, it'll wait for him to turn up. Wow, it's so nice to come out of the harbor, Nick. The sea's so blue and magical."

"It sure is." Nick weighed up his options. He didn't want Murray on deck, but more, he didn't want Murray figuring out that Cody wasn't on board. Before he could formulate an answer Murray's eyes went wide and he pointed.

"Look, Nick! A killer whale!"

Nick turned slowly, laying one hand on the rail. Close to the boat, far closer than was safe, a huge black and white shape was surfacing. "Be careful!"

"It can't hear you, Nick. That is, whales have very acute hearing, but not in air, only in water."

"Uh-huh," Nick said without listening. In the water, the orca swam a short distance then launched itself high into the air. For a moment it seemed to hang suspended in a diamond spray, then it dropped into the water.

Murray cheered but Nick just watched as the black and white whale circled the boat in a series of graceful leaps. "Isn't it beautiful? Orca, as they're sometimes called, are more closely related to the dolphin, did you know? They're thought to be extremely intelligent. They are powerful hunters, but the term 'killer' is a misnomer--"

Nick leaned forward against the rail, letting Murray's spiel fade into the background. The whale was indeed beautiful, its sleek black and white hide shining wet in the sunlight. It leaped and played with astounding grace, rejoicing in its freedom. Nick watched it long past the moment Murray decided his computers couldn't do without him, watched until the sun slid into the sea and the whale was nothing more than a dark shape against the sky.

He stood at the rail until the full moon rose, silvering the Riptide's brightwork, until the whale was no longer in view. Then Nick made his way quietly to the stern.

"Good swim, pal?"

Cody laid his hands on the tiny diving platform and hoisted himself aboard. Seawater streamed off his naked body, silver and gold, flames of ice and fire in the moonlight. His blue eyes glowed with the secrets of the sea.

Then he stepped forward into the soft glow of the light from the Riptide's cabins, simply a tired swimmer, glad to be home.

"Yeah," he agreed, stepping into Nick's arms. "Shame we gotta go back to King Harbor tonight."

Nick looked into Cody's deep marine eyes, so wild, so free. So joyful. His heart filled, and he kissed Cody, long, soft and sweet. "Don't worry, big guy. I'm gonna make it worth your while."

"I know you will." Cody kissed him back. "You'd have made Nebraska worthwhile."

Nick kissed Cody again. "I'd have sure tried."


End file.
